


Scotch and Coy smiles

by Peachyelio



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut, Русский | Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 16:32:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16329605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachyelio/pseuds/Peachyelio
Summary: Napoleon is rather fond of Illya speaking Russian...





	Scotch and Coy smiles

There’s jazz music playing as Napoleon swirls the glass of scotch between his fingers softly as he drapes his body across the elegant vanity chair.  His eyes are closed, lips parted slightly to form an ‘o’. Illya is at the opposite side of their hotel room, his gaze trained on his partner as he waits by the phone. 

Napoleon stirs slightly before he blinks his eyes open and takes a small sip of his drink. He’d been drifting off. He glances over to Illya and tried to conceal his blush when he notices the Russian was watching him.  _“Was I snoring?..”_ he asks, his voice betraying him when it trembles softly.  Illya opens his mouth to respond but was cut off by the telephone ringing beside him. He sighs and closes his mouth before he lifts the phone. 

 

 

 _“Privet..”_ Illya’s voice is low and his accent thick. It makes napoleon swallow and sit up straight as he turns the radio down, the previous soft jazz now even softer. Illya clears his throat. _“Da, ya ponimayu, ser..”_

Napoleon smirks, something about Illya speaking in Russian always set off a trigger in his mind. He was mesmerised by the way his partner's mouth wrapped around the hard vowels, how his lips always seemed to quirk into a smile, happy to be speaking his native tongue. His favourite thing, however, was the way Illya’s teeth flashed wolfishly whenever he spoke longer sentences, it drove napoleon crazy. 

He stands up and begins to fix himself another scotch, perhaps one for Illya too. He’d use that as his excuse to walk to his partner. 

 

 

Napoleon taps his foot softly against the floor as he listens to the quiet radio, every so often he’d steal a glance at Illya over by the bed. Still talking to Oleg on the phone. He smirks at the Russian and finishes up the drinks before softly padding his way over to the bed. 

Illya gives him a curious glance as the scotch is placed on the table beside him.  Napoleon smirks down at Illya before placing his own glass down. He bites his lip as he softly straddles Illya’s lap. Illya covers the mouthpiece of the telephone and shoots Napoleon a warning glare. _“ what are you doing??”_ He seethes. Napoleon simply responds with a coy smile and moves to begin kissing the Russian’s neck.  Illya hisses before he clears his throat, Oleg had repeated himself.

 

 _“missiya byla uspeshnoy. da, amerikanets pomog mne poluchit' nuzhnyye fayly.....Da, moi izvineniya, ser. YA znayu, chto eto byla prostaya rabota, no bylo bol'she lyudey, kotoryye snachala podozrevali...”_ he struggles out as Napoleon persists on his distraction.  Now Napoleon is softly grazing his teeth across Illya’s neck, making the taller man shiver. Illya clears his throat to disguise a small moan. 

He tugs on the American’s hair when he feels laughter against his neck. He places his palm back over the mouthpiece as he yanks napoleon back by his hair. _“ you think this is game? Not funny cowboy.”_ Napoleon can’t help but stifle another laugh. _“Oh come on, Peril. It’s only a little fun....and besides, surely it’s better than the chastising you’re getting from Oleg on the phone....making it more interesting..”_ he drawls and gently leans in for a proper kiss. Before their lips touch, Illya has lifted the phone to his mouth again.  

_“Da, V posledniy raz mister Khenshou sidel na polete na Sitsiliyu. Vot gde ya budu puteshestvovat' dal'she..”_

 

 

Napoleon sighs and clambers off the Russian’s lap. _“Fine. If you won’t kiss me I have more tricks up my sleeve.”_ He whispers and lifts his glass to take a large swig before placing it back down and gently moving to his knees before Illya. 

The broody Russian rolls his eyes and tries to ignore his boyfriend before surely Napoleon isn’t that crazy. His thoughts are proven wrong, however, when Napoleon begins to tug on his Ilya’s belt. 

 _“Nyet!”_ Illya scolds and tries to bat his boyfriend away. _“ ne vy, ser! moi izveneniya! YA prosto ... sozhgla moy palets. Vse khorosho. Prodolzhayte, pozhaluysta..”_ He stammers down the phone to Oleg. 

 

 

Napoleon gives another coy smile to Illya, his hair is now dishevelled, his product no longer keeping his curls in place as some have flicked to decorate Napoleon’s forehead. It is a beautiful sight, Illya thinks. However, he is still angry at the American for trying his patience.  

Napoleon sighs and gently sits up, moving to hug Illya’s lap instead. Given any other circumstance, Illya would currently be threading his fingers through the smaller man’s hair. Napoleon grumbles at the lack of affection he is receiving and instead decides to start nuzzling the man’s thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. Then there’s that hand his hair, just as he wants. Illya tugs again sharply. Napoleon hums against his boyfriends' trousers. The hand in his hair tugs harder. Napoleon Mewls and starts to unbuckle Illya’s belt again, this time Illya allows him. He smiles to himself, success. Leaning against the bulge, he chuckles. 

He pulls his head back up, glancing at Illya he smiles gently and bites his lip. 

 

 _“na pochte? Zavtra ya zaberu fayly..”_ Illya replies, biting his lip and closing his eyes when Napoleon begins to pull his trousers down.  Napoleon moans softly, smirking up at Illya. _“ I love it when you speak Russian, Illya...”_ he whispers softly, looking up at him from under his lashes. It's the way that Napoleon drawls his name that makes Illya look down at him and he can’t help but smile softly. He covers the phone again,  _“sumasshedshiy amerikanets.:”_ he muses fondly. Napoleon smiles up at him in response before he pulls the Russian’s briefs down. Illya bites his lip and tries to hold back a moan when he feels the cool air hit him. Napoleon smirks softly and can practically feel himself salivating at the sight.  

 

 _“ty deystvitel'no khochesh' rasskazat' o missii, pryamo seychas?..”_ Illya asks pained. This could not be happening right now. Napoleon quickly takes the Russian into his hand, giving a few soft strokes before his mouth wraps around his tip and hums quietly around him. Napoleon was going to drag this out, tease the Russian mercilessly. That’s what he deserved for denying Napoleon of his kiss. Illya’s words were strained as he continued to try and talk to Oleg. Debriefing the mission and the choices he had to make, all the while napoleon lapped at his cock, humming and slurping every so often, simply to drive Illya crazy. 

 

 

Illya is panting, writhing in his spot as he covers the mouthpiece with his hand. Only answering Oleg’s questions with short minimal answers. Napoleon is hollowing his cheeks and quickly bobbing his head in a simple rhythm.  Illya is close, and he cannot! finish while on the phone to his superior. He gasps softly and bites his lip. “ _da! da ser. Spasibo. Proshchay!”_ He barks a response and quickly hangs up the phone. 

 

Napoleon freezes his movements and looks up at the Russian, his eyes wide. A deer in the headlights look painted on his face. He pulls off the Russian and lets out a breathy laugh. _“So...how was Oleg?..”_ he smiles tauntingly. Illya glares and snarls, yanking the smaller man up by his shirt shoulders. _“vy absolyutnyy draznite !! vy nevynosimy !! yesli vy lyubite menya tak govorit' po-russki, togda pover'te mne, vy uslyshite yego segodnya vecherom!_!” He snarls, his expression dangerous before he pulls Napoleon into a sharp kiss. He groans at the taste of himself on his lover's tongue and tugs on the American’s hair. Napoleon moans softly and keens at the action. When Illya pulls back for a breath, napoleon chuckles. _“ God, I love it when you speak Russian..”_

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing smut actually so please be Gentle with me lol. Comments and Kudos are welcome! hope you enjoy! x (also, google translate was my friend for the translations, I am terribly sorry if I butchered the Russian...)


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